


Our Hearts are Never Tame

by ironsolo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: A Galaxy Reborn, agr, star wars AU - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Jedi, Mandalorian, Mandalorian OC, Original Character - Freeform, alternative universe, bektova, jedi oc - Freeform, shilohs no good very bad day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironsolo/pseuds/ironsolo
Summary: The empire is no more! After the deaths of Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine, the galaxy is in disarray; while many of his supporters are fleeing to all corners of the universe, the Rebel Alliance is hard at work trying to rebuild a solid form of government that satisfies the people. A few weeks after the events of Return of the Jedi, this story follows young jedi Shiloh Khosolo and his struggle to find his place in the galaxy.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Our Hearts are Never Tame

**Author's Note:**

> ALRIGHTY this is gonna be a long one so bare with me!  
> This story is based off of Star Wars: A Galaxy Reborn, a roleplay server I founded back in January. Since I only own a few of the characters I'm writing, all credits will be at the end of each chapter. Every character has a canon designs so if you're interested in seeing them check out the swagrau tag on Instagram but beware of spoilers. Some of the characters do have toyhouses, so I'll link those as well.
> 
> A lot of the places in this are not canon in the Star Wars universe (Bektova for example) but there will definitely be some later on. Not everything in here lines up perfectly with SW lore but since its an AU I wouldn't really worry about that too much -- when the server first started I wasn't too familiar with a lot of things, so I will be updating stuff accordingly. No canon characters will make an appearance in this. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as the story goes on as well; there's a lot of canon-typical violence but nothing really beyond that, though I'd still keep an eye on them. There will be a fair amount of death as well.
> 
> This will probably be quite long as there's almost a year of material that I'll be covering; ill try to update this consistently but we'll see :0 Also big thank you to ellis and sarah for beta reading this y'all are epic
> 
> As a final note, please don't ask to join the server! We'll open it back up after the current plot line is over, but right now it'd be too hard to catch people up with what's going on.

**4ABY, BEKTOVA**

Crashing through a planet’s atmosphere in a barely-functioning spacecraft was never something Shiloh did on purpose, but it seemed to happen quite a bit. Whether it was the piss poor piloting skills he possessed or just the state of the freighter he’d been trying to wrangle, he wasn’t too sure — all he really wanted to focus on at the moment was the rapidly approaching surface of Bektova.

The young jedi had never heard of the small outer-rim planet before. It’s name rang no bells as he frantically flipped through several radio channels on the ship’s built-comm, attempting to gather as much information on the planet as he could before his freighter met its inevitable demise. Bektova’s atmosphere was almost as bad as the endless asteroid field that surrounded it — lightning crackled all around the quickly descending ship, rain accompanying the fierce roar of thunder in a violent downpour. The cathar swore viciously as a white bolt struck the side of the vessel, sending both the ship and Shiloh careening sharply downward.

Shiloh Khosolo — son of the renowned rebellion general Jacave Olo and jedi knight Melvoh Khos’olo — was indeed the galaxy’s shittiest pilot.

The ship hit the ground with enough force to knock the jedi out; it was only sheer luck that Shiloh had braced himself in just the right way as to limit the trauma — most likely due from past experiences in similar situations. Sand and mud went flying as the freighter hurtled across Bektova’s dusty surface, the bits of various debris littering the ground helping to slow the skidding ship. Shiloh gripped the pilot’s seat for dear life as the spacecraft finally jerked to a stop, eyes wide and chest heaving. The cat-like sentient was bathed in almost complete darkness as mud and rain fully coated the front port, making it impossible to see anything — even the lightning surrounding his refuge was no longer visible. The only source of light to be found were the angrily blinking scarlet lights of the ship’s control panel. 

With a shaky exhale, the cathar sat back. The adrenaline pumping through his veins and his racing heart was doing nothing to ease the rising panic in his chest. He was alone, stranded out in the middle of an unknown planet, with a violent storm threatening to tear apart what was left of his freighter. The circumstances of his arrival definitely were not doing anything to help his notorious anxiety.

“That could have gone better,” Shiloh breathed, burying his face in his paws. In an attempt to get his scattered nerves back under control, the jedi allowed himself to sink into the force — which seemed to be incredibly strong on this unfamiliar dust ball. It was odd, but not something Shiloh really wanted to focus on at the moment.

Eventually over the next few hours the storms died down, though the cathar wasn’t quite brave enough to leave the belly of the decimated freighter. With absolutely zero plan — it wasn’t like he was aiming to even land on Bektova in the first place — Shiloh was content with regaining his bearings and figuring out where the hell he’d ended up.

The cathar uncurled himself from his awkward perch on the pilot’s seat and pushed himself upright in one graceful motion, his legs wobbly after several hours of unuse. Now that the torrential downpour that had rocked the ship earlier had eased into a light drizzle, it was easier to hear himself think. With a brief stretch and a quick, longing look at the busted control panel, the cathar turned his back on the front of the ship.

The freighter itself wasn’t an attractive thing — a fine layer of dust still coated the surface of half the interior, partially covering several patches of rust along the edges of each floor. It had been cheap, though, and it could fly— those were all that Shiloh had cared about when he’d purchased it. Even with the small captain’s quarters and an even smaller fresher, the ship had been worth the low price — up until Shiloh had taken up the mantle as it’s captain, of course. It was embarrassing, really. 

He padded around the freighter, scouring every inch for some type of map. Honestly, it might have been a good idea for himself to purchase one along with the ship, but at the time it hadn’t crossed Shiloh’s mind — truthfully, he wasn’t even sure if Bektova would be on a map. He certainly was unaware of its existence up until a few hours ago, and the jedi had spent countless days pouring over star maps during his padawan years.

The eighteen year-old sat back on his hunches after yet another unsuccessful rifle through the various cabinets in the ship’s bunks, a sour look twisting his features. Shiloh sent a defeated glare at the empty metal boxes surrounding him, his tail flicking irritatedly back and forth. He snapped upward and stalked from the room, furiously mumbling to himself. 

After being on his own for the past year, the cathar had learned to be as self-sufficient as possible -- but at times like this, there was very little he could do himself. Resigned to his fate, Shiloh stood up. With a final frustrated glance at the captain’s quarters, he stalked out of the room. 

A small knapsack containing his meager amount of belongings waited for him when he reached the pilot’s seat. In a single fluid motion he slipped the small backpack over his shoulders and whirled to face what had been the ship’s docking bay. The sides of the door had been almost completely crumpled inwards, and there was little to say for the control panel. 

Sending a last forlorn look around what was his ship, the jedi sank down into a crouch next to the widest hole in the metal surface. Wriggingly through the opening was quite easy due to his small size, but the smell was god-awful. Shiloh wrinkled his nose as he pulled himself out of what was left of the cruiser, gingerly shifting his weight onto the sandy surface below him. He paused, glancing up at the battered top of the ship.

_A good vantage point never hurts._

His claws scrabbled for a purchase as he hauled himself atop the ship’s remains, the surface still slick with rain. With just a touch of aid from the force, he straightened up, balancing precariously on the highest intact ridge. Shiloh raised a paw to shield his eyes, squinting as he scanned the surrounding area.

As far as the eye could see there was wasteland -- and it stretched on for _miles_. Even with the recent violent storm that had a hand in totalling Shiloh’s cruiser, the ground was already cracked and caked with drying, sandy mud. Remnants of long forgotten vehicles and various pieces of disemboweled starship littered the desert floor, and even from a distance they looked ancient. Only ruin, rust, and decaying metal surrounded Shiloh. 

The jedi’s heart sank as he continued his forlorn assessment, whiskers twitching with frustration. This day was not going the way he’d expected it to.

Luckily he’d always had enough rations to keep him stable for a good month, so food was not going to be a problem; he just had to figure where the kriff he was. A lot more gracefully than he’d gotten up, Shiloh slid down the side of the freighter’s carcass, landing on the sandy floor with a nearly inaudible thud. With a quick shake of his fur and a twitch of the ears, the small cathar was off.

Shiloh had made it maybe a few feet before freezing abruptly, a slight shiver running down his spine. He’d been so focused on finding some sort of civilization that he’d hadn’t even thought of the locals -- and whether they were friendly or not. 

Now that he was straining to listen for whoever had crept up on him, heavy yet tentative footfalls grew audible from behind him. The cathar mentally cursed, chastising himself for such obvious forgetfulness. Shiloh’s ears slowly flattened downward and his posture stiffened. A slow, steady hand reached downward for the lightsaber clipped to his belt, hovering just above it’s hilt just in case he needed to defend himself.

His back was still to the approaching creature, but Shiloh could feel its every movement through the force; if it were to attack, so would he. 

As the footsteps grew nearer, the being began to veer off its path -- Shiloh quickly caught on and tensed, keeping his head low and expression neutral. The stranger slowly continued it’s curious pacing, instead circling the jedi rather than stalking up directly behind him. Teeth bared but eyes flashing in anxiety, Shiloh cautiously turned his head to get a good look at the figure staring him down. 

The cathar’s passive expression immediately dropped as his eyes fell upon the armored-being prowling around him. A warning rumble erupted from Shiloh’s chest as he sank into a defensive crouch, now fully gripping his lightsaber. A year prior he might have mistaken the stranger for some sort of special task-force stormtrooper, but after his run-in with a certain Beskar-wearing man on Corellia, he now knew better. 

Shiloh’s green eyes were slits as he followed the Mandalorian’s every move, his cheek fur rippling aggressively. While not completely fluent in Wrendui due to his Bothan father’s early passing, the message was clear: _back off._

From their relaxed gait, the bounty hunter was unbothered by the jedi’s apparent discomfort. Even from a distance, they were obviously quite a bit larger than Shiloh -- they, towering at over a foot taller than the cathar, were fully decked out in a full set of bright orange beskar. Their prowl was calculated, but not hostile -- a long, winding tail gracefully streamed out behind them and their helmet was curiously tilted. 

No matter their intentions, Shiloh was most definitely not a fan of bounty hunters -- nor Mandalorians for that matter -- for a multitude of reasons. A thin hiss escaped his lips as he sank deeper into a defensive crouch, his ears completely flattened and tail rigid. 

Just in front of him, the mandalorian finally came to a stop. They raised their hands warily, but still had that same relaxed stance. “Easy,” an amused, modulated voice called out from behind their helmet. They made no move to get any closer Shiloh.

The cathar’s warning hisses died away, only to be replaced once again by that low rumble. His fur had fluffed up to twice it’s normal size, and he was gripping the hilts of his saber as if his life depended on it. Shiloh itched to ignite the blade, but settled for fixing the stranger with what he hoped to be a cold glare. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, kid,” the figure affirmed, lowering their hands. A hefty looking blaster dangled near their hip, though the mando made no grab for it. Instead, their helmet tilted upwards and above Shiloh’s head, looking beyond where the jedi was poised to spring.

Shiloh only squared his shoulders, making no move to shift his attention from the figure in front of him. His ears perked up, straining to pick up on whatever had caught the Mandalorian’s gaze. Panic flared in his eyes as two more pairs of footsteps thundered into earshot, one gait heavier and more irregular than the other. Without taking his eyes off the armor-clad man standing before him, Shiloh peaked over his shoulder.

Both beings were in similar armor, though painted drastically different colors. The closest had two appendages trailing out from beneath their helmet -- _a twi’lek then_ \-- and the third was still too far off to make out clearly. The spear the twi’lek Mandalorian had poised straight at him was doing nothing to help the cathar’s increasing panic.

“Is this your pack?” Shiloh warily growled in the general direction of the first bounty hunter, his gaze flipping back and forth between them and the rapidly approaching second Mandalorian. The man with the uneven gait had caught up with the twi’lek and appeared to be speaking to him. They exchanged a glance before both hoisted their weapons and turned back towards the jedi, resuming their pace but much less hurriedly. 

The cathar whirled back to face the being in the orange armor, uncertainty clouding his features. Shiloh wasn’t exactly sure what to do now: while neither of the three figures appeared hostile, he’d never met a Mandalorian who hadn’t been immediately distrustful around a Jedi. The cathar hesitated, lowering the hilt of his weapon.

No longer paying attention to the teenager, the first bounty hunter reached up and wrapped his hands around the base of his helmet. With an exaggerated flourish the mask slipped off with a hiss, revealing another cathar beneath. 

In stark contrast to Shiloh’s own dusty-gray pelt, the Mandalorian’s fur was a bright rusty red. As he shook his head, a thick mane fluffed up around his neck and forehead, giving the newcomer the appearance of a lion -- but even stranger were the two dagger-like canines protruding from his upper lip. The bounty hunter’s vivid orange eyes lit up with amusement at the jedi’s baffled look, but he still wouldn’t shift his gaze completely back down at Shiloh.

Beyond confused, Shiloh was ready to fully turn around and trust that the older cathar wouldn’t whirl on him. But before he could do so, a voice -- a familiar one -- called out from behind him: 

“Should’ve known it was your ship.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Shiloh (https://toyhou.se/5751191.shiloh-khosolo) and Cody (https://toyhou.se/8929810.cody-ryes) belong to me  
> Mace Landon belongs to @/crowwinggs on instagram and twitter (https://toyhou.se/5732180.mace-landon)
> 
> Title of this work and each chapter name are lyric from "Born for This" by the Score.


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